


Win some, Lose Some

by divakat



Category: NCIS
Genre: Blow Jobs, Caught, Elevator Sex, Lost a Bet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 02:59:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7873552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/divakat/pseuds/divakat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bet's a bet. This one involves blow jobs and elevators. It really doesn't get more transparent than that!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Win some, Lose Some

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Summersquares](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Summersquares/gifts).



> Happy Birthday to Summersquares!

Tony’s fingers scrabble against slick, cold steal as he sinks his teeth into the swollen flesh of his bottom lip.

“I didn’t mean… _fuck…_ I didn’t really _mean_ it.” The high-pitched half-objection slips between his teeth before he can hold it back. “I sure as hell didn’t mean right… _here_ ,” he pants, the words dissolving into expelled breath as the silver head bobbing over his cock tilts backwards, becomes blue eyes paired with a devilish smirk he’s been missing for longer than he can remember right now.

The hiss of his gasp is prolonged in the small space when the fist around his cock squeezes and a warm, wet tongue slowly licks him from balls to dripping head.

“Bet’s a bet.” The tongue which was just lapping at his cock slides across that self-satisfied grin, slips between pink, swollen lips to be savored, and Gibbs’ eyes go lust-hazy, dark and dangerous at the taste.

That’s it. That’s all the explanation and respite he gets. Suddenly his head is spinning and the world is tilting because Gibbs - _Gibbs-_ is going down on him again, taking a moment to tug his jeans lower to his calves and push his knees apart before he sucks him- _sucks him-_ fucking deep like some desperate, dick hungry twink in the backroom of a club at 2am on a Friday night.

He’s slowly melting into the liquid wall behind him and he grips the rail tighter, clinging to the sharp bite of metal into the palm that’s veritably itching to test the softness of steely strands that tickle the crease of his thigh with each twisting stroke.

Wet, obscene sounds fill the space around them and with every pass of barely covered teeth up his erection he’s that much closer, that much harder. Gibbs’ hands are on his thighs, his belly, his ass, distracting, heightening, making his hair stand on end. A new sensation, the curl and furrow of a hungry tongue coupled with each fluid stroke, and Tony’s on his toes inside his shoes, twisting his hips and barely reigning in the needy moan that mercifully sticks in his throat.

The warmth of Gibbs’ mouth starts to pull at the heavy heat in his belly, to tighten the ropes of it that reach into his limbs, and when he suddenly feels the knowing press of beckoning fingertips behind his balls-not in his ass where he fucking wants them, but _so_ fucking close, _so_ fucking _close_ -he finally gives in and buries his fingers in the hair at the back of Gibbs’ head and holds on with a trembling fist.

Normally he’d give a warning, a polite tap, _something_ to let the man going down on him know he’s about to blow from the blow, but this is Gibbs- _Gibbs_ -and he can’t do polite right now, can’t do anything but hang on as his thighs shudder and his balls get tight. The first jolt of orgasm hits him like a wave to the chest, forces the air from his lungs, rolls him over and over as he curls forward then arches back, emptying himself down Gibbs’ throat. “Fuck…Gibbs… _fuck.”_ He’s only aware that he’s spoken the words aloud when they echo back to him.

The hard pulse in his groin gradually ebbs and Gibbs slows his pace, looks up at him one last time with a cock-filled mouth before letting him go and pushing himself off his knees with a slight grimace. He covers Tony’s body with his own, presses him against the wall and kisses him hard, filling his mouth with the surprisingly pleasant mingled taste of cum and Gibbs.

Somewhere is his muddled head he wonders-not for the first time-who the man is that’s holding him up while he comes down, pressing a hard cock into his hip while carding fingers through the hair at his nape and mouthing almost delicately at his fluttering pulse.

But then the heat around him is gone and the man he’s not sure he knows anymore is stepping away and untucking shirttails around the bulge in his pants, eyeing his still-undone jeans with a meaningfully arched eyebrow. There’s no more time to enjoy the afterglow or ask the fifty questions burning in his throat because as soon as his too-sensitive dick is tucked away, the switch is flipped and the elevator unsticks itself to move to the next floor.

“Gibbs…” he begins, not sure where the sentence is going to end. He’s saved by the sharp ‘DING’ that actually makes him cringe, but not before he catches the slight softening around the eyes that meet his across the room that is still all their own.

The doors slide open and another pair of eyes join their ocular tete-a-tete. Tony feels the flush in his cheeks reignite and he breezes out of the elevator and past a curious-looking Ducky with barely a nod.

“What have you done to Agent DiNozzo this time, Jethro?” Tony hears the amusement-colored admonishment as he flees down the hall.

“He lost a bet.”

He can feel the smirk against his back from 100 feet away.

 

 

 

 


End file.
